


My House, In The Middle Of My Street

by gala_apples



Series: Kinking Deadly Class [3]
Category: Deadly Class (TV)
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sibling Abuse, In Public, M/M, Sex in a Car
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:36:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29577612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: Billy has to go home to figure out exactly what shit his dad is subjecting everyone to now. Lex doesn't want him to go alone.Inspired by episode four, Mirror People.
Relationships: Billy Bennett/Lex Miller
Series: Kinking Deadly Class [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849930
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	My House, In The Middle Of My Street

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the seasonofkink prompt in public.

Billy gets off the phone with Charlie knowing he has to go home. He doesn’t want to. Home is where is father skulks, turning everything he touches rancid. Lil Cheese clearly needs him though, and Billy does everything he can for his family. Even for the piece of shit. Billy’s contract is what’s keeping him alive. If Billy ran away to go to real school and join the football team like a prep asshole, if he skipped out on his mob financed education, father dearest’d be dead in weeks.

“Where are you going in such a stonkin’ hurry?” Lex drawls out.

“Home. For the weekend, or however long it takes this to work out.”

“Work what out?”

“I think my dad did something shitty. I gotta talk to my brother and my mom.”

Billy is prepared to eat shit as Lex finds a joke in the situation. It wouldn’t be the first time. Half the neighbourhood had ways to laugh off the criminal choices Howard Bennet made, continues to make. Lex will be an ass, Billy will swallow it, or toss out something safely sarcastic, Lex will fuck off and Billy will be able to get moving. 

Instead Lex is actually somewhat human. There aren’t many left in the world. “That’s rough, that is. How you getting there?”

“Greyhound.”

“Eh, fuck that. No sense in spending all your drug money on a bus ticket. I’ll drive you down.”

Billy frowns at Lex. “You’ll what now?”

“What else am I doing to do this weekend? Petra and Marcus are both in detention. Isn’t a friendly road trip supposed to be a staple red hearted American teenage experience? Maybe I’ll burst into patriotic tears on the drive home, start singing the national anthem. Oh the rockets red glare,” Lex warbles, hand clapped over his heart.

And the thing is, Billy wants to take him up on it. Beyond the obvious money thing, Billy’s never done good with being alone. Slowly driving towards a nightmare he’s not sure he’ll be able to fix alone will feel even worse. Even the comfort of his mixtapes with max volume can only help so much.

“It’s not going to be a great scene, man. I’m gonna try to avoid the old man as much as I can, but I might have to-”

“Have it out with the no doubt effervescent gentleman that he is.”

“Yeah, something like that,” Billy answers, glad he doesn’t have to detail it out loud.

“It won’t be my first front row seat to a fight. I’ve been couch surfing for two years, I’ve seen it all, and I know when to keep my nose out of it.”

So... fuck it, right? His entire future is planned out for him, he can take these small opportunities for choice. 

“Don’t talk about sex in front of Charlie, and you can come in for some dinner when we get in.”

“I’ll be as clean as cocaine, man,” Lex answers. 

Billy paces for five minutes as Lex throws together a backpack full of shit he might need. It’s a skill of Lex’s, living out of a bag. He considers leaving a note for Petra or Marcus to find if they don’t make it back by Monday, but doesn’t. There’s the chance that the monks will read it and report it to Headmaster. Billy would rather give himself the greatest chance to not get caught than potentially warn Marcus. Finally Lex has his shit under control, and they can leave.

A few blocks away from the school, they start scouting potential cars. Billy wasn’t for a moment under the delusion that Lex would have a legal ride, they’re all no account Rats after all. Headmaster Lin might have a few for student use and the evasive driving lecture, but they’re vigorously monitored. Billy’s going incognito, and that means getting a car no one is monitoring. Lex is acing Infiltration and Exfiltration class. Only one of them can be pulling wires under the wheel, and Billy’s happy to leave it in Lex’s capable hands.

The drive takes all day, of course. There’s a bit of arguing about which tapes to put on, UK vs American punk, but they almost always end up in a song Billy can sing along to. There’s a bit of arguing about everything; if Petra’s worth all of Billy’s effort, if Maria should just kill Chico already, who would win in three way battle between the Dixie mob, the New World Order and the Hessians, if Chico would just calm the fuck down if Marco sucked his dick and showed some humility. Billy stands opposed to Lex on almost all of it, but it has to be said that at least an argument is a distraction from not knowing what he’s going to walk in on.

Just a little after Lincoln Elementary lets out for the day, Lex is pulling onto Erin Avenue. Billy fucking hates this street, and everyone who lives on it. School actually wasn’t the worst, not always. He learned some interesting things that weren’t about body disposal, and he’d had friends. Home though, and this street full of inconsiderate assholes, never a good place to be. 

Lex parks, and Billy’s hand clenches on the seat belt buckle. He doesn’t want to do this. He has to do this. He doesn’t want to do this. He doesn’t want to be here.

“You alright there, Billy boy? The flask is nearly empty, alas to liquid courage, but I’ve got some glue should you need it.”

That’s not what Billy needs to say a huge fuck you in this neighbourhood. In fact, huffing glue to dissociate from reality would be pretty common. But there is something that would really piss off everyone who’s ever enabled Dad, whether it’s gambling or abuse. And Billy’s long since learned pissing people off gives him strength. Pink clothes are armour towards the upper crust and joe blows, and sarcasm is defense against authority.

Billy knows Lex is bi. There’s a radar that comes with these things, a way of projecting queerness. It’s not the same choices in every guy or gal like him, but there’s a known variety. In Lex’s case it’s dropping ten too many jokes about hooking up with men. Making a punchline out of homosexuality isn’t exactly novel in the world, but at some threshold quantity it becomes less about the joke and more about the message. Billy’s heard hand job jokes, blow job jokes, jizz jokes, foreskin jokes. There’s even been jokes about trading anal for drugs. Not that Billy blames the guy. Getting both drugs and sex out of one interaction is pretty kickass. 

Generally speaking knowing someone shares the same orientation as you wouldn’t mean shit, Petra’s straight and somehow thought Viktor was a better choice of male than he was. Lex though, is definitely a huge slut. Billy feels like he has a chance here.

“I’m alright. Wanna make out?”

“What’s that?”

“Do I really need to say it again?” There’s no way Lex misheard him.

“What, need some plausible deniability when the bollocks come out?”

Billy wishes this conversation was being spoken through megaphones, that Mr James and Mrs McPherson and Mrs Torbet could all hear Howard’s pathetic son angling for a big fat queer make out session. They’d have to drown it out with radios turned to ten, the way they always used to drown out the screams of a beating.

“You think I don’t know you mean it when you make gay jokes? You think you’re the only one who wants a fuckin’ dick in their mouth?”

“Come here, you prick,” Lex grits out. He grabs the lapel of Billy’s denim jacket and hauls him to the side. Billy has no choice but to go with the movement, and when Lex stops pulling he still keeps going, until he’s straddling the Londoner. He’s got one knee jammed between Lex’s side and the car door, and the other resting uncomfortably on the driving column, but who cares about the bruises his legs might develop when his fingertips are touching Lex’s hard gelled spikes and their lips are shoving together? Not fucking Billy. He’s gotten bruises for a thousand worse causes in his time.

They make out furiously for a minute or ten. Billy doesn’t want to stop, doesn’t think he can stop. He’s not a virgin, not by far, but it’s always more intense with guys. There’s less love there, more lust. There’s more fuck you, world, and that translates directly into passion in Billy’s bloodstream. He’s hard where he’s rutting against Lex, dick harshly confined. Lex is grabbing his ass, rhythmic pulses that make Billy want to split himself open over Lex. Billy hopes the feeling is radiating outwards, the feelings equivalent of high pitched noises only dogs can hear. He’d love it if fuckin’ Mr Graham who told him if he stopped being such a pansy he’s stop earning so many black eyes got hit by ultrasonic horniness because of two giant queers. 

It’s a bit startling when Lex yanks on the seat pedal. Billy doesn’t really notice him doing so, but he sure the hell notices Lex suddenly dropping back from upright to totally reclined. They’re not kissing anymore, obviously, but Billy can’t stop his restless shifting. He inches from grinding cock to cock against Lex, to riding his dick with only a layer or two of fabric between them. If Billy was inside he could grab his lotion from his old room, fuck himself down onto Lex’s British uncircumcised cock and really give himself a go. He doesn’t want to be inside though. Inside isn’t saying go to hell to every single racist homophobic xenophobic neighbour in this wicked place. 

“Don’t come in your jeans, Billy,” Lex smirks. “Hardly matters if I don’t talk sex to your innocent fawn if you walk in with jizz soaking through your denim.”

He’s got a point, but “what do you suggest?

“Kneel up. Get your pants off of anything I might want to touch, and I’ll do the same. 

Billy doubts Lex will manage, if only because Billy would be happy to touch every inch, and there’s no way Lex is stripping to nudity pinned the way he is. But it’s nice to see his bare cock. Billy’s caught a glimpse or ten, being roommates. Lex isn’t exactly shy, his belief in causal nudity built on years of couch surfing his way through waking up with morning wood next to someone watching Saturday morning cartoons and interrupting someone’s phone sex to ask where the bathroom is. Billy has been told some _stories_ , as has Petra. It still means more, now that it’s not just casual. It means more because he’s rocking on top of Lex’s hardness, the mushroom head of his cock catching against Billy’s rim with each sway, not just being in the same room after a shower. 

He’s groaning, loud enough for the greenish tinted windows to vibrate, and he needs to believe the asshole Fratelli preteens can hear him as clearly as he can hear their endless Bang Snaps being tossed at the ground as they smoke stolen cigarettes. Billy can remember the brothers following him six blocks once, throwing the tiny explosives at his feet every five steps. Master Valencia would laugh at their weakness as he quizzes a class of twenty on what the most deadly components to add into a pipe bomb are, but it was annoying as shit when Billy still lived here.

Laying back the way he is Lex can no longer reach Billy’s ass, but he does get Billy’s cock in hand. Billy’d almost rather Lex’s fingers breaching him, but with nothing but spit that’s a bad idea. He’s not the only one with it on his mind though. Lex moans “want to fuck you, Billy boy.”

“Yeah, want that too.”

“Fuck you so fuckin’ hard-”

“Yeah-”

“Make you scream-”

“Give my goddamn dad a goddamn aneurysm-”

“You’d like that, huh? Upsetting someone that bad? Something they don’t teach at Kings, how to offend someone to death. Should. Maybe we’ll propose it to Lin.”

Billy’s almost certain there will be a Sex Ed and Seduction seminar at some point in their training. Maybe optional, since the future thugs like him won’t need it when they’re beating the debts out of some schmuck’s rib cage. But he doesn’t want to burst Lex’s bubble. Especially since the bubble is probably just Lex playing along. There’s no way Lex isn’t already fully aware of methods to sleep your way to what you want. 

“Fucking do it, Lex. Make me scream,” Billy groans. He’s so close, he’s so fucking close, the idea of getting caught being this person might bring him right to the edge.

“Don’t mind if I do. I have a feeling your father is as civilized as my brothers. Let’s show them what living in our world is like, luv.”

Billy collapses forward, sweat worn Mohawk falling into his forehead as he braces himself on Lex’s biceps. He grinds backwards as best he can, making Lex ride the crack of his ass, yelling each time Lex pinches a nipple under his shirt. God, Billy just wants him to fuck him, he wants to be ripped apart until there are no pieces left that belong here on this street, or belong to anyone else. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

Billy throws a hand to the roof of the car to stabilize himself so he can jerk off for the last few strokes it takes to get to orgasm. He overflows his hand, spunk dripping onto Lex’s exposed pelvis. There’s no way Lex can’t feel it, feel what he’s caused. Billy can’t go as far as complimenting him for the good work, it would come out as too genuine, too sweet, but he can bend forward again and suck Lex’s earlobe into his mouth. Biting down on it gets Billy a particularly hearty buck of hips.

Lex thrusts up, and up, and up, and Billy does his best to keep the tension in his asscheeks so Lex is fucking into something, even if it’s not actual penetration. It must be enough for him, Billy accidentally scrapes his teeth as Lex wrenches his head to the side and shudders. A hot flood of come torrents through his crack, smearing as Billy reflexively shifts. 

“Next time we’ll have to crack the window so it doesn’t fog up,” Lex comments.

“Next time?”

“You told me you didn’t know how long you’d be here. I figure a tension relieving fuck every six or so hours, until we can leave. Am I wrong?”

In Billy’s mind, that strays dangerously close to boyfriend material; someone who will fuck him to keep him sane through the worst exposures to his dirt bag father. But if Lex is offering, Billy’s taking. It’s more than Petra has ever indicated willingness to give. And it’s more than he would have ever gotten staying in the neighborhood. Billy may resent the fact that he was sold, but being sold has given him a few things unavailable on this shithole street. 

“Pass me a fucking sock from your bag,” Billy says in lieu of thanks. “We need to clean up before we go in.” There’s a difference, after all, in the fantasy of being better/prouder/more unique than everyone on Erin Street, and underwear sticking to the jizz he’s coated in as he sits at the table to advise Charlie on his homework. 

“Yes sir, Billy, sir!” Lex mocks salutes. But he does it, twisting to reach one of the backpacks in the back seat, and Billy feels like it’s just another sign Lex will have his six in whatever this weekend is about to be. Whether that’s helping maintain the peace, or throwing the second punch after dad throws the first remains to be seen.


End file.
